Tabula Rasa
by RoadwayFox
Summary: The only thing Alex feels during a failing attempt at withdrawal is that she's come undone. Then she sees butterflies. (Season 3; Olex)


_**A\N – A little Olex story that appeared out of my strong certainty that these two should be given a real chance! I swear I can see them together and not to mention that with where the writers are taking the Owen\Sam arc now is more than disappointing for my Olex feels. **_

_**Well, anyway, enjoy the reading and don't forget to review!**_

**Tabula Rasa **

"Go away…." Her voice was quiet and the words blurred into one.

"Come on, Alex, don't be like that." His answer came out a bit muffled as he was pushing one of his strong hands under her knees and the other behind her back to pull the young woman up from the stone floor of the changing room.

"I…" No coherent answer came but she tried to push his chest away, lost course.

Owen looked at the girl in his arms sadly as he started moving through the empty halls of the night Division and to the garage quickly. He was not judging for he knew better. It was just extremely heart-rending that at such tender age Alex was an addict that once again was slipping into the oblivion. He himself knew all too well all the signs of the withdrawal and what he was looking at definitely were one. "Alex, you can fight me or detox. You can't fight both."

His words echoed somewhere in her stained slurred mind and Alex made a determined decision to try and not to fight the man that could possibly be her only way to survive at the moment. Although the nausea and spasms were soon to come and her head felt completely fogged she reached one hand and fisted his shirt.

Owen was glad. She was holding his shirt for dear life. It was a benchmark of some sorts. Alex was in a very dark place and this was her solid ground. It could have been anything, anything that helps an addict determine what is there around them and when the demons call you back to the junkie land one must just hold on to this point of reference by which all the other programs and actions to be measured even if it's only inside of the head.

_She dreamt of sea and snow, sun and snowflakes, wind that was tangling her long hair and uncommonly fresh air that she was breathing in. She was standing what seemed like on the top of the mounting with the blinding sun hidden behind the greyish cloud. _

"_It's so peaceful here." Alex whispered to herself mostly not really expecting an answer._

"_Imagination can be like that." She was surprised when the answer came from an unlikely source. _

"_What are you doing here?" Her tone was inquisitive not accusing. "I thought this was my dream."_

"_It is." He chuckled with this bit raspy voice of his. "So you should probably ask yourself why I'm here."_

_Alex didn't say anything for a long while. Really, why was Owen here of all people? Nikita would have been an obvious choice, Michael even – he recruited her, trained her, was probably her friend…or at least what she thought was close to a friend standards. Sean…she doubted that. He never really understood her, their relationships were doomed from the start, he was like that golden trophy near which she felt herself unworthy enough. _

_Owen on the other hand… all of not so long moments that they've shared were filled with the strange feeling of comfort that she felt neither with Nikita nor with Michael, and especially not with Sean. It felt like she and Owen were made of the same, had the same essence. She didn't feel judged or pitied in his presence. He wasn't keen on saving her all the time, perfectly knowing that she was capable of doing it herself. Though she constantly felt that he had her back like that day when the hospital wing blew up and he covered her form with his own._

"_I feel safe right now." She finally let out._

"_Well then it's only normal that your subconscious brought out someone who makes you feel that way. Yet I'm a little bit surprised that this person doesn't have robotic features and spend his days digging the tattoo meanings." Owen stressed the last part._

_Alex smiled as she shook her head lightly:_

"_I see the dream-you still possesses the wit the real you has."_

"_Again, it's your dream." They were both standing on the top of the mountain overlooking the land from the astonishing high. "Do you want me to hold you?"_

_Alex stumbled slightly not moving from her place. Did she want that?_

"_Yes." It was a whisper, a whisper that was taken by the wind from her lips and was lost somewhere in the sky._

_But apparently Owen heard her reply before it perished in the wind for his callous hands encircled her small frame from behind and he gently placed her back against his chest. Alex didn't remember when was the last time she's felt the time stop and that kind of tranquility take over her. She closed her eyes and pushed herself deeper in Owen's arms. The sense of security settled in the pit of her stomach as her head found its place under his chin._

"_Alex…" Owen's voice felt so far away while she was still sure she felt his hands tightly around her._

_She opened her eyes, releasing a breath of air and suddenly they were in the forest still secure in the arm lock, a million of multi-colored butterflies around them. Alex's face touched with a serene smile as she held onto Owen's hands with her own._

"_Alex." _

_A wave of sudden pain hit her and for a second everything she could see was black. _

"Alex."

_Where did all the butterflies go? Where did his hands go?..._

All of a sudden Alex became painfully aware of her surrounding. She was what looked like in her apartment, in her bedroom, in her bed. Felt like she was still wearing her training clothes. She was drained. There was something cold and wet on her forehead.

"It should get better soon." A smooth familiar voice said from her left.

Owen was sitting beside her bed with a bowl of ice-cold water to change the cloth on her forehead when needed.

"I think…the fever has ceased." Alex tried to say but her sentence was interrupted sharply by the dryness of her throat.

Owen grabbed a glass of water from the bedside table precociously prepared for that occasion.

"Thank you." Alex whispered after a couple gulps and a slight coughing noise.

The man in front of her smiled tightly but never let his expression change to accusing or unsympathetic.

"You slipped a little, I understand. Things like this happen." He felt her forehead with his hand and held it there a little longer than needed. "But you're right. Seems like you're not as hot as fire anymore."

"Now that's a compliment every girl longs to hear." She answered and he chuckled.

"Still hot though. I've heard all this sweating's good for the skin." Owen winked. "I should probably call Nikita, she can take care of you much better than me."

As he made it to stand up Alex's shaky hand reached out to grab his wrist clumsily.

"Owen," She called with her tired eyes boring into his bluest ones. "No Nikita. Could you…could you just hold me?"

Owen was hesitant for a moment. This five hours while Alex was out he was searching his head for the answer to why was he helping her. He could relate, yes, but that wasn't the main reason, was it? Something about this fragile (and strong, he reminded himself) Russian girl made his ripper heart ache..as if it was being used again. Something he thought he'd never have to do again. She wasn't innocent, on the contrary damaged probably beyond repair. But then, so was he.

Her eyes looked at him pleadingly and Owen's mind shut down on the subject. He took Alex's hand, the one that was holding his wrist, so that they both had a hold on each other's wrists, and guided it so her whole body was turned away from him, kicking his boots off as he did so. By then Alex was gripping his hand a lot tighter. Owen carefully lay down next to her on the bed, not letting go of her hand all the while. He fixed the comforter around Alex and put his other hand behind his head while pressing the girl closer to himself.

"There goes my clean start." Alex chuckled bitterly.

"The thing is," Owen found himself saying softly in her ear. "No one gets a clean start. There's no tabula rasa. The past is always there. You just have to learn to leave with it. And some day maybe even accept it."

She didn't say anything so he added a lighter note:

"Or we can always seek out Amanda and make her wipe your memories away too."

He felt her shake slightly as she spared a smallest laugh.

"You are just like in the dream…" Alex whispered softly.

"Hm?" Owen looked at her amused but didn't get any answer for Alex finally fully relaxed in his arms, having drifted off to sleep.

Owen chuckled lightly mulling over the words she said before dozing off. With his free hand he pushed some of Alex's wild hair from her forehead and considered kissing the top of her head but in the end decided against it. He pulled her body closer and pressed his forehead to the back of her head, hiding from the rays of the rising sun that were shamelessly breaking through the window.

Owen nodded off instantly.

_And then there were butterflies again. Everywhere. _


End file.
